


I am yours now, so now you don't ever have to leave

by rokklagio



Series: After Hours [5]
Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 18:48:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10747671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rokklagio/pseuds/rokklagio
Summary: “They were, like, the epic love story,” she explained to a dumbfounded Gunnar. “Romeo and Juliet. Isak had different boyfriends, but nobody could compare to Even. Nobody. Was that Romeo and Juliet’s story?” she asked Eva, who just shrugged. “Anyway. It was kind of romantic, but also quite sad. Y’know, not being able to get over someone for years and all of that.”





	I am yours now, so now you don't ever have to leave

**Author's Note:**

> continuation to [this](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9589787)
> 
> I'm sorry for the late update. Work and various life events stole me from this story, and I could find only recently some oxygen. I have read your comments and I want to tell you they've been the main force behind this story. Thank you all for reading it. This is the final chapter.
> 
> Title from The xx's Islands.

  
  
  
Isak spent that night sitting on the couch, one arm around Gunnar and the other busy holding the phone, scrolling back and forth through his contacts, mulling over Even’s name with an unspoken worry on his face.

He wondered about Even’s mental state, if their casual meeting was enough to elicit a crisis. He had to fake the least possible interest in Even’s case as not to make Dr. Solberg suspect his reasons, and he found out she wrote him her last prescription and suggested a specialist in Kathmandu. He couldn’t ask further, so he nodded and went back to work. He didn’t chase him because he was sure he’d have another opportunity to talk, but he wasn’t so sure now. If Even needed a specialist to follow him in Nepal it meant he was going to live there, and if he hadn’t needed one until now it meant that during the last two years, even though they haven’t seen each other, he still came to Oslo. They had been in the same city and Even told him nothing about it. They probably weren’t meant to meet this year either, it was just a coincidence the paramedics found his number in Even’s emergency contacts. The thought left him clenching his jaw with a sour feeling in his guts.  
He knew what Even was doing, but he didn’t know how he could have stopped him.

_Isn’t this what you want?_

Gunnar let the remote fall on his lap.

“Look, there’s nothing on tv tonight,” he uttered as he suppressed a yawn. “Why don’t we go out?”

Isak looked up from his phone. “Out? Why?”

Gunnar tilted his head, flopping his brown hair under the lamp light of the living room. “Because we look like a retired couple right now. Let’s go drink somewhere.”

Isak smiled. “But we drank a bottle of wine at dinner. I don’t feel like drinking more anyway.”

Gunnar’s face fell.

“Okay, can we at least go dancing somewhere? Before I leave for Paris?”

Isak furrowed his brows.

“Is there something wrong with being home?” he asked with a sting of resentment in his voice. Gunnar’s gaze went straight out of the window, as if he had to ignore Isak’s question and avoid his face in order not to start a fight.

“We are _always_ home, though,” the other man grumbled under his breath. Isak heard him, but chose not to hit back.

“As long as we have each other we don’t need anything else, right?”

Resolute with the intention of not granting Isak with one more look, Gunnar seemed to ponder over Isak’s words. When he finally moved, he offered to wash the dishes. Isak let the discussion drop and returned to check his phone.

 

The following day he walked every inch of the aisle looking around, hoping to find Even again. He would check inside the rooms before saying hello to his co-workers and the patients. He would jump whenever he heard a deep voice speak greet him. He even accepted to work overtime with the silent hope he would eventually bump into Even. From time to time he glanced out of the window to check on the emergency room, wondering if he would find him there and felt the need to slap himself in the face when he had almost wished to find Even right in there.  
However, when the clock struck 9 and the parking lot was absorbed in the dark, he had to accept he wasn’t going to magically meet Even. And yet he waited around the ambulances for half an hour, trying to see if the people spread on the gurneys looked like Even. What if he hurt himself? Isak smoked four cigarettes as he watched, freezing his ass off as he convinced himself that he was just checking on Even, nothing more. This is what friends do. This is what normal people do. Right? _Even would be able to do anything, that’s why he had to be there_.

He felt the phone vibrate in his pocket. He knew it was Gunnar: he was supposed to finish hours before. He waited for him to call him another couple of times, then he decided to pick it up. The man could be adamant when he wanted.

However, there was no name on his phone screen, just an unknown number. His hand was shaking as he wandered through all the possibilities. _What if it’s Even_?

He answered.

“Hello?”

A bright, feminine voice greeted him. “Hi Isak! It’s Vilde Hellerud. We went to Nissen together.”

“Yes, Vilde, hi.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to hide the annoyance in his voice. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” she answered sharply, “especially now that you have picked up.”

He hadn’t heard from Vilde in years. He was curious of what she had to tell him, and deep in his heart he knew his curiosity wasn’t really genuine. He was content he could wait a bit more by the hospital, just in case. He wasn’t going to drive with his phone on, anyway.

“Eva and I are planning a sort of high school reunion. We were wondering whether you could make it.”

Isak was convinced already he wasn’t going to go, but he wanted to be polite anyway, so he tried to come up with some interest.

“Really? And when would it be?” he asked.

“It’s tomorrow night. I know it’s pretty sudden but I have been trying to reach you for days, so…”

“Ok, then I will let you know on this number, alright?” he didn’t even know if he was going to save it.

“Yes, that would be perfect. Oh, you can bring a date. I know you’re living with your boyfriend, so—”

They haven’t spoken for years but it seemed Vilde knew more about Isak than she let out. Eva must have told her everything.

“Yeah, I will see if he can come along.” Gunnar could, obviously, but he played the part. “I’ll let you know tomorrow afternoon, for sure.” He had time to make up a believable excuse at least. He really didn’t feel like meeting people he hadn’t seen in years.

“Thank you, Isak. Before I forget: I’m telling you just to be fair. Even is going to be there. I hope you’ll come anyway. Now I really have to go. See you tomorrow.”

The wind was freezing cold.

                                                                                                     

When Isak told Gunnar about the party, he had only told him so that Gunnar knew he was going to come home late. But that wasn’t entirely the truth, because he waited for a frustrated answer to come out of Gunnar’s mouth, asking if he didn’t have to bring a date with him. He watched as Gunnar wrote on his laptop instead, his glasses reflecting the white screen as he typed.

“I thought you wanted to go out more often,” he commented, sour.

Gunnar raised his eyes.

“Yes, to clubs. Not to your high school reunion, Isak.”

“If I told you not to come, what would you think?”

“That you’re hiding something from me.”

“Then come.”

 

When they walked inside the big hall, Isak didn’t recognize anybody at first.

The only sign that indicated they were in the right room was the huge banner hanging from the ceiling ‘ _class of 2015_ ’ in large, shining letters.  
All those faces looked to him pretty unknown at the first, then at the second and also at third glance. Who the hell were these people? He stepped to the side, directing himself towards the buffet table. He turned around to make sure Gunnar hadn’t get lost. He hadn’t: he seemed, however, not to care much about Isak. He pointedly looked ahead, diverging his gaze from left to right, with curious wonder.  
Isak knew Gunnar had got a little bit annoyed with his behaviour, but he also knew they were good now, and why would they not be? They were great, Gunnar and he.

He browsed briefly the food but went rather quickly to pour himself some prosecco – was it?

“Long time no see.”

He raised his eyes and found Eva smiling at him.

“As if we don’t see each other every week,” he replied with a subtle grin, before he downed his prosecco. Eva laughed at his comment and drank too from her glass. Among all the people Isak still saw from his high school days, Eva was one of the few who hadn’t changed much, appearance-wise. She was a lighthouse in a sea of dark, unfamiliar faces.

“I don’t know any of this people. Did we really go to school with them?”

Eva shrugged.

“You’re asking me as if I wasn’t wondering whether I crashed someone else’s party or not barely thirty seconds ago. But I’ve seen Vilde walking around, so…” she waved her fingers vaguely in the air, an indication she was clearly tipsy if not downright drunk.

As she spoke and mimed an imaginary Vilde before her, her eyes automatically wandered over Isak’s shoulder.

“Is Gunnar with you?”

Isak turned around. He saw him engage in a conversation with some guy, who definitely looked as lost as him.

“Actually, yeah.”

“Did you two fight?”

“I wish I knew. He’s pissed at me but he still wanted to come.”

Eva narrowed her eyes on the man, then she whispered.

“Just have fun tonight. He’ll eventually get by.”

And eventually Gunnar walked to them and reached for a kiss. Isak happily conceded him a peck on the cheek, as if some soft PDA would have been enough cure to senate whatever wound they still had. Eva saw some girl walk by and decided to leave them. He slightly bent his head on the side, trying to figure out Gunnar’s expression. When he looked at him, Isak smiled.

“Are you alright?” he asked, caressing Gunnar’s right arm. The man looked him right in his eyes and nodded, almost enthusiastically.

“Of course, sweetie.” He smooched him with a dramatic effect, but also with affection. Isak laughed and everything seemed to be back to the way it used to be, but something didn’t fit in, Isak thought. He took Gunnar’s hand and talked to him with playful tenderness, trying to ease him into his world and not letting this night turn into an unpleasant experience for Gunnar.  
Some guys joined them as they tried to pick some other food from the buffet table, laughing and joking casually as one of them remembered he used to go to middle school with Gunnar. They started to chat pretty quickly and got involved in their own private universe. Isak looked at them, faking interest to what the other guys were saying. He watched his boyfriend get carried into a conversation where he didn’t belong. He tried to search for annoyance, jealousy even: the fact that he felt more relieved than anything left a sour taste in his mouth.

He raised his eyes from the glass and looked around, hoping to find Mahdi at least. He knew Jonas lived in South America, so he probably couldn’t make it. He wondered if he was going to spot Magnus anywhere. Were he and Vilde still together? The broke and made up countless times, he wasn’t sure they still talked. He looked around, but he knew—deep down—what he was looking for.

Golden locks caught his eyes as a big hand came to flatten it down, brushing the quiff back. Even smiled to several people who came to hug him, and he was standing a good five, six metres from Isak. People naturally gravitated around him, and lately even more than before. Was it his newly found fame? Or was it always there? Was he in a good place now?

When those pale blue eyes reciprocated his interest, Isak turned away. He met Gunnar’s soft smile, and chocked down every sort of feeling Even’s sight might had provoked out of his mind.  He smiled back, and got back to his conversation.  
  
  
He was beginning to tell the other guys off (really, who knew them anyway?) when Eva and Vilde approached them, their arms linked together and the others busy with half-empty glasses.

“Isaaaaak,” Eva called him and Vilde jumped forward to latch her arms around his neck, as if they had been best friends for years. He patted her back and smiled awkwardly in Gunnar’s direction.

“Hey Vilde, nice to see you,” he said in a vain attempt to disentangle from her grip.

“I’m so happy you came!” Vilde shouted, almost too happily for his liking. When she let go he took the opportunity to steal Gunnar from the guy and introduce him to the girls. Well, Eva already knew him, but she was already quite drunk to introduce herself once again.

“Yeah, I know you,” Gunnar muttered in confusion, but Vilde didn’t leave him to his thoughts for long. She first looked on her right, then on her left: she leant forward and lowered her voice.

“Isak’s ex-boyfriend is here, so you better show off your… erm, commitment.”

Gunnar widened his eyes in a comic manner. He laughed, taken completely off guard by Vilde’s – well – _ditsy being_. Isak glared Eva with a furious look – _don’t fucking mention Even don’t you dare_ – but she wasn’t paying attention. She joined Vilde’s laughter and went on with their drunk, rambling revelation.

“He just came in, he’s over there!” she pointed towards the buffet table. Isak watched as Gunnar turned around and spotted Even. He could feel himself burn with embarrassment.

“Is that tall fellow?” he asked Isak, pointing vaguely towards Even’s way. Isak didn’t answer, but the girls promptly did.

“It’s him, yes! _Even_.” They stressed on the name as if it was a magical word.

“So… what’s the deal with him?” Gunnar asked, confused but also slightly amused by the girls’ behaviour. Isak quickly told him “nothing, really,” because Even was a multitude of deals, how does one begin with Even? But Even doesn’t deserve to be talked with such casualness. He didn’t want to hear Eva and Vilde talk about Even’s life, Even’s problems, Even’s _depths_.

“You don’t get it,” Eva began, “he is _the_ ex. With a capital E. They’ve been together for several years—right Isak?”

Vilde didn’t wait for Isak to either confirm or deny, because she continued for him.

“They were, like, the epic love story,” she explained to a dumbfounded Gunnar. “Romeo and Juliet. Isak had different boyfriends, but nobody could compare to Even. Nobody. Was that Romeo and Juliet’s story?” she asked Eva, who just shrugged. “Anyway. It was kind of romantic, but also quite sad. Y’know, not being able to get over someone for years and all of that.”

Isak looked down on his drink. Gunnar wasn’t smiling anymore, he could feel it: he could feel his gaze analysing his every move. He wanted to tell them to shut the fuck up, to mind their own awful business but would that have helped? Gunnar tried to look unfazed by their words, but Isak took a glimpse of him swallowing hard whatever thing he really wanted to say.

“Well, you must have not seen each other for a long time then, since I have never heard or seen him since we have been going out.”

At that remark Eva raised her eyebrow. Isak did too, mentally, because – really? _Going out_?

“Right?” Gunnar asked, but Isak kept still. Partly because of Gunnar’s poor choice of words (they didn’t _go_ out for over a year, they _have been dating_ , for fuck’s sake), but he also couldn’t find the right words to make it sound like his denial wasn’t suspect. When Gunnar’s eyes narrowed, he felt it was now too late.

“You have been seeing him,” he said, slowly, as if he had reached a sudden epiphany. The air has gone quiet around them, and the girls were now staring at them with huge eyes and horror in their faces. Isak couldn’t bear his furious glare, so he instinctively looked over his shoulder, towards Even. He was staring back.

He heard Gunnar storm off.

“Gunnar!”

 

He ran after him, bumping into people as he reached him out in the street, one of the busiest in Oslo.  
Gunnar walked with raging fury dictating the pace of his steps. Isak tried to grab him by his arm, but Gunnar turned around and escaped his grip.

“I’m a fucking idiot,” he screamed in frustration. Isak stopped dead on his tracks and stared at him.

“I’m a fucking idiot. I’ve been living at your place, we had a fucking anniversary dinner – two, for that matter – and you’re out there screwing your fucking ex-boyfriend?”

“Gunnar, I have never—”

“Shut. Up,” he pointed his finger at Isak, “I have changed everything I was to be with you. I moved to your place. I have stopped seeing other people just because you seemed to die to be in a serious relationship. And I liked you, _God_ , I really liked you. You were cute. I was ready to settle down _for_ you.”

His eyes were blown wide, he looked insane: he took a deep breath and started again.

“I was ready to make a commitment, and I wasn’t even that interested,” he burst in a sarcastic, maniacal laughter. Isak stared, completely frozen. He felt anger, humiliation and fright all combined. But he also felt terribly exposed, almost naked in front of the audience it seemed they now had. Gunnar kept screaming things, throwing some offenses in there. They were justified, though. He slept with Even after all. They screwed. It was all true.

Tears swelled up in his eyes, blurring the street before him. Gunnar was now a vague figure behind the veil of hurtful self-consciousness and salty tears that surrounded him. He shivered against the cold. He left his coat inside.  
  
Gunnar wasn’t there anymore—he wasn’t sure there were other people either. He moved to go back inside the party, but he collapsed on the ground instead. He felt months, years of lies tumble down on him, and they were all his own, after all.

He sank his face into his hands and started crying. He wanted to scream, to tell everybody that he wasn’t a cheater, a liar. He never forced anybody into a relationship. He never did. Never. Never.

Silent steps approached him as he muffled screams in his hands, and a tender hand softly touched the back of his neck as he rocked back and forth with rage and defeat. After a couple of minutes he raised his eyes, even though he didn’t need to: he would have recognized the touch of his fingertips anywhere.

“He’s gone,” Even said, as if he was talking about a monster Isak found under his bed. His hair was longer now—wasn’t it? It brushed softly over Isak’s fingers, which were pointedly sinking into his knee. He realised how close they were, and he realised how familiar that feeling was. As if his head magically fit in the hollow of his collarbone, he leant his forehead against Even and felt his arms bury him, flood him with a sense of silent knowledge. He wondered what Even thought of all the truth that had been laid bare just minutes before. But he said nothing, and Isak did the same.

 

They watched as the Oslo traffic rushed before their eyes.

 

*

 

He didn’t come home that night.

He knew Even took him back to his place, took off his shoes and laid him down on his bed. He also knew he carefully tucked away his phone to make sure he wasn’t going to make more mistakes.

Then he hugged him, letting his head rest on Isak’s bony shoulders. His golden hair tickled the back of his ear.

He listened to the faint sound of Even breathing through his mouth. He sounded as if he was sleeping, but Isak knew he was as awake as he was.

“Are you going to Kathmandu?” He had to ask him. He had to know.

Even didn’t answer. He grabbed Isak and made him turn towards his face. Their legs naturally entwined. He ghosted his lips over Isak’s, brushing the tip of his nose against Isak’s skin.

“Do you want me to?” he whispered.

Isak closed his eyes.

He swallowed. “No.”

Under the soft membrane of his eyelids he could feel Even’s stare burn into him.

“Say it.”

He opened his eyes.  
It was unbelievable the amount of things they both knew, and yet they never had worked the courage to let them out, to voice them to one another. Isak knew what Even wanted, and he knew he had to give it to him. He fixed his eyes on the older man.  


“Please stay,” he asked him with a boyish voice, hungry for promises.

Even caressed his cheek, thoughtfully. He let out a soft smile.

 

“I will.”


End file.
